


Adventures with all the children

by CheetahLeopard2



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: All of them are in a queerplatonic relationship with you, Aromantic Asexual Yuuji Terushima, Aromantic Character, Aromantic Reader, Asexual Reader, Gen, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships, nonbinary reader, request fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8146117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheetahLeopard2/pseuds/CheetahLeopard2
Summary: You are queerplatonic partners with all of the characters. I don't have many ideas so it would be great if readers requested or commented! Chapter 1- Tetsurou Kuroo and Keiji Akaashi after a bad day.Chapter 2- You wake up the first day of school with green soulmarks covering your arms. Tetsurou Kuroo, Kenma Kozume, Morisuke YakuChapter 3- More realistic style with Tooru Oikawa and Koushi SugawaraChapter 4- Yuuji Terushima and some of Johzenji, all aces get dragons on their thirteenth birthday and you meet Yuuji at the mall.Chapter 5- Bokuaka at a bus stop with your best friend





	1. Tetsurou and Keiji- Bad day to good evening

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE SEND REQUESTS (at some point I hope someone remembers Yuuji NGL)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've had a horrible day but when you get home Tetsurou and Keiji are already there, and they make the day a lot better.

 It had been a horrible day. At first you had woken up and all was good, brilliant even. And then the elevator at your work building was broken. And you’re on the twentieth floor. Right, okay. And then your computer froze  _ while you were backing up the day's work.  _ You skipped lunch to do it all again. And then some idiot microwaved popcorn for to long, which set off the fire alarm. Which had set off the sprinklers. Which soaked through your new book. After that you had to borrow your  _ boss’  _ hairdryer to dry off. After which someone spilled coffee on your reprinted files. After a day full of like-minded catastrophes you had decided to take the bus home. Which broke down  _ in the middle of the street.  _ By the time you stumbled inside your apartment, after skipping shopping for dinner in favor of coming home, all you wanted to do is collapse into your bed and sleep until your stomach wakes you up. You can practically hear Hajime telling you off. Well, him, Koushi, Morisuke, Kaname, Tetsurou… actually, most of your QPPs. Well, they can’t see inside your head. 

 As soon as you stumble through the door and toe off your shoes (on the third attempt) you feel cold, deft fingers peel off your coat. You sigh in slight relief and lean back into the touch. 

“Welcome home.” Keiji’s soothing voice already lightens your day a little. He guides you further into the apartment, where the wafting smell of food is apparent. 

“Hi. Why does the house smell like yakisoba?” It isn’t odd that there are people in your apartment. After all, you willingly gave them all keys, and you have keys to all their apartments, so.

Tetsurou’s head pokes around the kitchen entrance, “Don’t worry! I did all the cooking. Didn’t even let Keiji in the kitchen." 

Giggling slightly, you turn back to Keiji and take in his slight frown before kissing his cheek. “Don’t worry Keiji, your ability to do pretty much anything more than overbalanced your inability to cook, and that’s just part of your charm anyway!” 

Keiji gives a slight huff that you wouldn’t be able to sense unless you weren’t leaning entirely against him, which you take full advantage of, resting most of your weight against him as he sighs and waddles you to sit at the counter. The corner of his mouth quirks, cluing you into the internal smirk. “You’re right. After all, cooking is what Pain-In-The-Ass Kuroo-san is for.”

Tetsurou tuts, “Mean, Keiji.”

You resist the urge to laugh, “I think something’s burning.”

Tetsurou scoffs, “You doubt my ability?” 

Keiji doesn’t even try to hide his smirk this time, “They’re not lying.” 

“Oh sHI-” Tetsurou’s voice cuts off with a yelp as he bolt to turn the oven off.

You laugh as you slide off the barstool. “I’m going to shower and change into PJs. Feel free to chose a movie!”

You settle down on the couch. Well, kind of. Rephrase, you flop onto Tetsurou, who huffs but puts his arms around you as you burrow yourself into his chest and let the rest of yourself go limp. 

“Wow.” he chuckles before kissing the top of your head and playing with your hair, “Long day?”

You just groan into his chest.

Keiji walks in with three bowls of ice cream, holding the (colder) bowls against your feet until you moan and sit up. “I am only sitting up.” you say for the record, “for ice cream and hugs.” 

“Understood.” Keiji nods. “Now I love both of you, but if you don’t make room for me on this couch I will pull you both off.”

You and Tetsurou hum and sit up. And then continue humming in an ‘instrumental’ version of Bohemian Rhapsody. 

Keiji sighs, resigning himself to this until he turned on the T.V. 

You don’t remember much after finishing your ice cream. Glimpses for sure, but you assume that you drifted in and out of sleep.

There was a moment of almost-consciousness. It was nice. Silent, no awareness of your physical body other than a faint pins-and needle-type buzz. Except for the slight warmth and pressure of someone stroking your hair and the nice smell of Tetsurou underneath you. 

The next time you are brought to awareness by the sound of Keiji’s laugh and the tone he uses when he’s roasting an actor. The thought makes you smile. In mind if not body.

The next glimpse of wakefulness is when Tetsurou hoists you up and transfers you to your bed. Whining, you reach for him and Keiji to come back and cuddle. Keiji shakes your shoulder to rouse you more. Huffing, you crack one eye fully open to blearily glare at him. 

“Come on. You have to get ready for bed.”

“Fine. Help me up.” You reach out a limb as he helps haul you out of bed. 

When you and Keiji get back to the bed, having confirmed he and Tetsurou are staying the night, you find that Tetsurou is already waiting. When was the last time you slept alone? Last night Kenma, Kei, and Takanobu left at around midnight, so they didn’t actually spend the night. But you’d had someone share this bed with you for at least a month before that.

Tetsurou pulls you so that he’s spooning you, and Keiji is facing you, his arms wrapped around your waist. “Goodnight.” You whisper.

“‘Night.” Tetsurou murmurs, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

“Sleep well.” Keiji scoots a bit closer.

A few moments of silence go by before Tetsurou clears his throat. “Soooo…. Who’s turning off the light?”

“Umm…” you begin, “I think we’ve done fucked up.”

Keiji’s laugh follows him as he stands and walks over to the light switch.

“Now,” he intones as he falls back to the mattress, “we sleep.”

After twenty minutes of silence you speak up. “What if our saliva were flammable?”

Tetsurou hums, “Well, we probably would have progressed faster as a species.”

My shoulders shake slightly, “And there would be more accidental fires caused by babies.”

Tetsurou is now chuckling slightly too, and then we both lose it, shaking the bed with our laughter when he whispers, “Born a pyromaniac.” and I reply, “Growing up an arsonist.” 

“ _ GO.”  _ Keiji whispers harshly into your hair, “ _ The hell to sleep. _ ” Our silence lasts another thirty seconds before you whisper, “Hellfire.”

Today was a pretty okay day.


	2. meeting soulmates- Tetsurou Kuroo, Kenma Kozume, Morisuke Yaku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up on the first day of school covered in green tattoos. Today you start at Nekoma High and on the train you meet Tetsurou and Kenma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have like three more please send requests

_ Great. I don’t have time for this shit.  _ Is your first thought when you wake up the first day of school. You knew your soulmarks would appear in your fifteenth year, but this is unconventional. You had expected not to have a romantic soulmate. You’d identified as aromantic since the age of thirteen, after all. But the amount of QP soulmates you have is, quite frankly, overkill. At least thirty green lines cover your arms, disappearing into your sleeves. And that’s just what you can see. Of course. Well, you start Nekoma is half an hour so you can’t worry about this right now. At least you get to wear a tie. Not a tie of your choice, but a tie nonetheless. 

On the way to the train station, you see two boys walking in the same direction, both in Nekoma uniforms. One had bleached tips and black roots. The other’s black hair seems to be sticking up in a more natural than styled way. Both were slightly hunched over, seemingly looking at something in the shorter kid’s hands. 

The one with stand-up hair is ridiculously tall, so you vote against trying to get attention. Your anxiety starts burning in your throat at the thought of approaching them first, and you sigh, realizing that you won’t have your usual social grace until you wake up more. It’s not that you’re very socially awkward. You can actually be rather charming. And blunt. While stuttering. It all depended on the day really.

You get on the same train car as them anyway, leaning your head against the window as you try to gain awareness. 

And then you feel a but of warmth next to you. Turning, you see a kind smirk and golden eyes. The two boys that were walking ahead of you to the train stop, you register. The one with hair hanging over one eye extends a hand, which you shake.

“Hello. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, is it your first year?” A jolt goes through your arm. Oh. Well, that’s a good thing to happen on the first day of hell. Kuroo-well, Tetsurou? Would it be awkward to use his first name?- is still smirking at you, now with a confused light in his eye. Of course. You haven’t spoken yet, so he wouldn’t know. 

“Hello. Yes. Um. Do you have others?” His jaw drops as he clutches at his arm. 

The shorter of the two sighs, “Sorry about him. I’m Kenma Kozume. One of the ‘others’.” Another jolt runs through your opposite arm. 

“Hi Kenma. Is it alright if I use both of your first names?” He nods and you roll up the sleeves of your white shirt under the sweater vest. “I just got these today. Do you know any others?” 

Tetsurou gently grabs your exposed arm, rolling it around to examine the numerous tattoos. “They’re all green.” He says in a puzzled voice. 

You hum as he rolls up his own sleeve to compare. 

You find your breath catching in your throat at the multitude of colours painting his arm. While you had all sorts of shades of green, he had all colors even beyond the rainbow decorating his arm that you could see. 

Kenma taps your leg and gestures to the pole. You smirk at him and grab it as Tetsurou continues to marvel at your arm. 

And the the train pulls into your station and Tetsurou almost stumbles to the floor. He narrows his eyes at you and Kenma, taking in the hands holding the pole. “You two did this on purpose!” he accuses. 

You exchange an amused glance with Kenma and the two of you shrug. Tetsurou throws up his arms in exasperation. “Why?!” 

Kenma laughs slightly as you exit the train, and you think it may be the cutest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Why are you heading to school this early?” Kenma asks, seemingly unsettled by your staring.

You frown, “This is early?” 

Tetsurou nods, “We’re headed to volleyball practice. Since school doesn’t start for a couple more hours,” You glare at him, “want to come with us?” 

“Sure.” you don’t have anything better to do anyways.

The walk to the gym was filled with talking. You learn Kenma is a setter, and Tetsurou is a middle blocker. The entire team is actually soulmates, so the multitude of lines on your arms wouldn’t garner much negative attention at school as everyone was used to it. Although, it turns out that while all of your tattoos are varying shades of green, only one tattoo on everyone else’ arms are green. The three of you assume that that is your tattoo.

As you approach the building, you glance at the flood of students, “Are you sure seven thirty is early?” 

Tetsurou yelps and looks at his wristwatch as though it’s betrayed him.

“Oh no.” Kenma laments, “No practice.”

Tetsurou shakes his head and grabs your hand, “If we hurry I can introduce you to Yaku! Bye Kenma!”

Kenma waves as Tetsurou guides you away, and you wave as well, rolling your eyes as you see him mouth, “Good luck.”

As you are led by Tetsurou, you begin to recognize the area he’s leading you to from the tour you took of campus over the summer. 

“Are you a third year?” 

Tetsurou hums distractedly in affirmation before he yells in triumph, “Morisuke! Wait up!” 

A shorter person turns from where he’s talking with some other third years, he has sandy hair and brown eyes. And he looks fed up with the world as soon as he catches sight of Tetsurou. 

“You skipped on the first day Tetsurou! What could you have possibly done-”

Tetsurou interrupts him, “Morisuke, this is the green tattoo!”

The boy- Morisuke- turns to you, “Oh hello, I’m sorry about him.”

You grin, “It’s fine. After all, It’s thanks to the nerd that I can meet everybody.” 

Tetsurou looks between you and Morisuke with horror, “Are you ever going to side with me?”

You shrug, “Yes.” He brightens, “Eventually.” He laughs and ruffles your hair.

  
All in all, this is a pretty great way to start the school year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda want to write more for this one...


	3. This is something different- Memoir with Tooru Oikawa and Koushi Sugawara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga is Suga b/c he prefers that. And this is written differently. You have to write a memoir for school.

The assignment was simple. Something you thought you’d have done in ten minutes maximum. The universe just _loves_ proving you wrong, doesn’t it? _“You make it too easy!”_ Toph’s voice echos easily, references a second-or fifth-nature to you. Settling down at a table, as you didn’t do the assignment during class, you begin to let down certain walls in your mind.

Slowly becoming hyper-aware of everything around you, you reach up and remove your glasses to better focus on the screen in front of you. The area smells nice, you register, pine and something softer swirling around you. Dancing around you in pinpricks joining in their translucent airstreams that make up your world. As though you had just been spun in sixty circles, you can sense the Earth spinning, your center of gravity shifting and disconnecting from everything else. The music streaming softly from speakers next to you can be easily be drowned out, which is the opposite of what you need right now. Turning it up, the click of the key on your mp3 makes your eardrum vibrate in an almost painful way that’s addicting. Soon, though, the music overpowers it. The glide of the ridges on your fingers that make up your fingerprints and the almost imperceptible catch of them on the keys of your computer opens your awareness of touch. The exact streams of air gliding past your skin in smooth, cool, shifting trails not unlike milk but not as dampening on your sense. Taking a breath in, feeling the air be pulled along the roof of your mouth and falling down your throat, you rest your hands on the keyboard, ready to type.

A memoir, correct? Easy. When you were in fourth grade, you had had an amazing teacher by the name of Mrs. Leohr. She had introduced you to personal narratives. You had written those with ease, sometimes effortlessly stringing together 3k words. This wouldn’t be much different, right?

Wrong. Wrong. You were very wrong. Writing fics? Easy(Well, except emotional scarring, second-hand embarrassment, and tears). Writing yourself into scenarios? Easy. Recreating a voice? Easy. Recreating a body? A taste? A smell? A touch, even? Easy. Writing about your life? No! Well, at least that gives you an idea. Kind of like the coping method you created last Friday. Your children will help you. Inspiration.

Closing your eyes, you only open them when the warmth of a hand with long, strong fingers seeps through your shirt above your shoulder blade with phantom pressure. Turning around in your spinny chair™, you find yourself face-to-face with Tooru Oikawa. Behind him, you see Koushi Sugawara pulling up a chair.  Both setters, both with extraordinary game sense who should be able to help you with their observational skills. Also, Sugawara is mothering enough to stop this from being too lazy, while sin-and-sass™ enough to get you going. Oikawa is trash enough (and enough of a perfectionist) to make sure that the content is at least passable. On the other hand, he’s not the “Grand King” for nothing. Which is normally helpful, but he’ll probably try to downplay how hard it would be to write a memoir...

“Ya-hoo~” Tooru chirps, “I remember memoirs, they weren’t that hard. Don’t worry!”

There it is. Well, you raise an eyebrow skeptically, “And how many of those did you write about volleyball or Hajime?”

Tooru gasps and splutters in mock-offence as he tries to procure a response as Suga chuckles quietly behind his palm from the seat next to you. 

“You could probably make something up.” Suga points out, his voice warm and joy-reminiscent as usual, “As long as it’s realistic.” And then he swivels his torso to look at Tooru, “Get rekt.”

Tooru gets a grin you recognize, and you decide to nip this in the bud before they get going. Suga.” you begin, “whenever I write fiction, something in the setting or character age or something inevitably changes. Self-preservation instincts stop me from putting information that can be traced back to me.”

Suga hums. Tooru speaks up, “Then don’t. Don’t include your name or your address or how broken you are. “ Tooru’s voice reminds you of honeydew milk bread when he speaks more seriously. Well, less cloying and sweet with something more earthy.

Suga nods, “He’s right. Go over-the-top with descriptions. Go into the depth or your perception you usually wouldn’t and see where it goes from there.”

“Thanks guys.” you hug both of them tightly before lifting your hands back to the keyboard.

Rather than let the illusion slip away, you allow your mind to continue. Some clinking noises, muffled whispers, and the slight scratching of a pencil on paper play on in the background as you work. The actual thing didn’t take more than ten minutes, but you had written it all from third person out of force of habit. Before you go to change it, you hear the tail end of Tooru and Suga’s conversation.

“Do you think they’ve eaten yet today?” Sugamomma strikes again. He clears his throat and directs the question at you.

“Hey, have you eaten yet?”

A pause, “..No.”

“Showered?”

“..No? I showered yesterday, though.”

“Slept?”

You laugh at that one.

“You have to go and eat it’s not healthy to wait so long between meals.” Tooru pipes up. As though he’s one to talk, I-overwork-myself-until-my-knee-gives-out-and-stay-up-way-too-late-analyzing-matches-san.

“And they say Hajime’s the mom friend.” You try to joke.

“Oh he is,” is Tooru’s response, “But he’s not here and I’m Seijoh’s Team Dad, remember?”

You appraise him, taking in the tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and the peace sign he’s thrown up, yes, a total dad friend, indeed.

“Yes, fine, I’ll go eat!” You do, you go upstairs and eat something. You don’t recall what.

Yay! Your subconscious wants your body to function! You're not surprised, honestly. But the way the need for food manifested was interesting, maybe you’d look it up later. Probably not, but still.

Sitting back down, this time on your bed with Tooru and Suga on either side of you with their head resting on your back, reading over you shoulder, you continue.

“Oh my gosh.” you say some 1,000 words later. “This was supposed to be a school assignment.” Oh well, it works. You’ll post the third person view on ao3 as a new chapter of Adventures with the children and say it’s in a different style. And then you’ll have updated and done your homework! Two birds with one stone! “This fandom is my life.” said strongly, at the same level as conviction but more with resigned hopeful happiness drenched with an odd mixture of melancholy, amusement, and slight shock. Lemon cake visual with the taste of maraschino cherries.

Clicking the ‘Post-without-preview’ button, the number of work’s you’ve posted on ao3 seems to agree. “This is a _memoir_ .” You whisper harshly as you share the google doc with your teacher and watch the view count of your ‘memoir’ on ao3 go up. If only you could die, there’s a special spot in hell reserved for you. Shrugging, you agree. _At least fandom will be there with me._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuji Terushima is another ace/aro you meet at the mall. Based off of that thing that was once and ace turns thirteen they get a dragon that only other aces can see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love him

Usually you didn’t go to the mall. But here you find yourself, ditched by the friend (an OC) who dragged you here outside of a makeup store. You don’t even wear makeup? Great. Why would he drag you along if he was just going to leave? Oh yeah, because he saw his girlfriend. Why did you agree to come in the first place? Oh yeah, because he was  _ upset that he didn’t have enough time with his girlfriend.  _

It could be worse, some boys could be hitting on- oh, no. Spoke too soon. Here come a bunch who seem to be whistling at everyone they pass. How did your life turn out his way? 

 Your internal sigh is loud enough to attract the attention of your dragon, Komo. Komo is short for Komorebi, the sunlight filtered through the leaves of trees. Komo shifts colour often, in no particular pattern that you’ve noticed. He’s about the size of a smaller big cat, coming up to your knee. His hollow bones mean that he can still rest on your shoulders even with his size. 

Your dragon is your kind of physical sign/companion that came to you just before your thirteenth birthday. Anyone who falls on the asexual spectrum gets one. Mostly, though, they are solid colours. After research, you have determined that Komo can shift colors because you’re also aromantic. 

Dragons often perch directly on the ace’s body or fly within a twenty yard radius. Dragons aren’t a very common sight. Honestly, you don’t really expect to ever meet another ace unless it’s arranged. 

Komo warbles as the group walks closer, climbing up to watch from atop your head. 

An answering warble startles you and catches you off guard just as the group reaches you. Immediately the one at the head of the ‘pack’ zeros in on you. Because that’s just how bad your luck is, apparently. 

 “Well hello there Sweet thang.” He begins. Unprepared, you blush and look over his shoulder, trying to locate the origin of the other warble. 

The leader smirks at your reaction, “I wonder how far down that blush goes?” 

The ‘pack’ snickers as you open your mouth to say something along the lines of, ‘To bad you’ll never find out.’ Which would undoubtedly be not very effective considering how flushed your face is.

“Hey babe, sorry I saw an old friend.” a teen around the same age as you with bleached hair in an undercut slings his arm around your shoulder. You momentarily stiffen before the yellow-gold dragon on his shoulder walks across his arm and curls on top of his hand and your shoulders, where Komo and the newcomer begin sniffing at each other. The black ring on his right middle finger glints slightly as he waves at the ‘pack’. “Hi.”

Smiling and relaxing, you lean your head over into the other ace’ shoulder just enough for the leader to notice. “It’s fine. How were they doing?”

“They’re doing great! They still play volleyball, we might see them at the next match!”

Huffing, the ‘pack’ moves on. 

“Thanks.” you say to the other ace, carefully turning so that the dragons on your shoulder won’t be disrupted. 

“Anytime, always glad to help. Well, even see another ace. Yuuji Terushima, feel free to call me Yuuji.”

You smile and return the sentiment, asking him to call you be your first name as well. Terushima sounds familiar, but you decide to put it behind you as Yuuji’s dragon returns to his shoulder, now a white-green. “Are you aro as well?!”

Yuuji looks excited, “Yeah I am! Are you?” At your affirmative nod, his entire face lights up.

“Want to be friends?” He looks like the entire world has given him a free homework pass for the rest of his life.

“Hell yeah!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, which he returns immediately.

“Want to go for some coffee?” 

“Sure!”

After spending the rest of the day with Yuuji, you find that you’re both second years. This is your first year transferring to Johzenji, where Yuuji apparently goes and even plays volleyball at.  “Wait are you the transfer student?”

At your inquisitive glance, he elaborates, “My dad said that there’s a transfer student who’s going to stay at my house for a few years. I haven’t been able to see them yet because I’m usually at volleyball practice or something.”

That explains why his name was so familiar, “I guess so.”

That night, you go home together, and Yuuji introduces you to his parents. The first night there is full of talking and platonic cuddling. There was also a lot of joking around and a small-ish pillow/prank war. 

 You ended up falling asleep curled up in Yuuji’s arms, dragons flanking the both of you. 

Your first day at Johzenji you left at the same time as Yuuji, a few hours before you actually had to, so you could meet the team. It was really interesting, and after finding that the manager is a third year, you offered to join to be manager this and next year. You get along pretty well with the rest of the team. There’s another ace there as well as Yuuji, the setter Takeharu Futamata. HIs dragon is perched in the the rafters, and you only notice after it swoops down at a water break. The dragon is red, black, and blue, with the π on it’s left ear. You recognize the poly flag, and ask about it the first time you can have a more personal talk with him. It turns out the rest of the team is in a polyamorous relationship. The team plays music while they play, with large speakers that Kazuma Bobata the middle blocker brought. The two-on-two drills show the unpredictability of the team, and it’s interesting watching them all play in the moment and try to best each other while occasionally dancing and breaking into song.

The teachers are less exciting, and going to volleyball club becomes the highlight of the school day, after which you head home with Yuuji, who is the one to remind you to do homework.

After a few months of living together, you became QPPs, often sleeping over in the others’ room and eventually making plans to move in together for college.


	5. Too tall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You aren't homophobic, but maybe when you started yelling it sounded that way (no actual homophobic language used or anything dw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I GOT RANDOMLY INSPIRED BY THIS (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/398568635758239266/) AND I HAVE AN EXTREME WEATHER DAY OFF SCHOOL. SO

The way you met them was completely unorthodox.

Walking down the street with your childhood friend is usually fine. You’re about average height… for a female. Which can be hard when you’re an agenderflux person aND YOUR FRIEND TEASES YOU RELENTLESSLY FOR IT. 

So when you walk down the street, eye level with most women and neck-level with most men, it can be a bit irritating.

Of course there’s hardly anyone else out right now.

And then your friend, that lovable shit, points out the couple at the bus stop. They are cute together. 

One is really the most beautiful man, or maybe even person, you’ve ever seen.

The other is cuter than a fucking button he looks like an owl and you want to boop his nose.

 The one with slicked up-and-back hair is crouching, one elbow on his knee to support his head on his knuckles. He seems to nod off every few seconds. The other hand is loosely held by the beautiful boy, who is standing upright looking off into the distance, other hand in his pocket.

The one standing looks to be about 5’ 10” or 11”, and the other, crouching, is just below his waist, and standing is probably taller than the beautiful boy.

 “You’re going to be the shortest one at the stoooppp~.” your friend sings, teasing you slightly over your limit. He can shut his 5 foot 10 inch ass.

“OKAY NO! YOU CAN’T USE THEM! THAT’S JUST WRONG HOW COULD YOU!”

You storm up to the boys, who look about your age.

They both look up, the taller one with a glare at your words, and the other with the confusion of one who had just woken up.

You usher The sitting one up, ignoring the other’s glare.

“YOU HAVE nO RIGHT!” You fret gesturing between them.

“You know.” the pretty one interjects, tightening his hold on the ow’l hand, “If you’re going to be homophobic you don’t have to make a scene.” 

The owl’s eyes, large and somewhat threatening, turn their intense gaze to you.

Your friend snickers behind you.

The idea is a bit ridiculous, as you’re aro as fuck and have never judged anyone for anything other than pedophelia or incest in your life. 

You furrow your brow as your friend tries to stifle his giggles with one hand, bent over in mirth.    
“What?” your tone is incredulous, “no.”

They relax slightly.

“It’s just,” You gesture them up and down, “Why is everyone so damn tall? IT’S NOT FAIR!”

Your friend snickers again in the background and you whip around to face him, “ALRIGHTY YOU FUCK STOP SNICKERING YOU’RE SHORTER THAN THEM AS WELL.”

He, indeed stops snickering and goes to stand besides the pretty one, “Huh.”

The owl lights up and grins so blindingly that you have to glance away, and the slight upturn of the pretty one’s lips at his boyfriend face is to intimate and sweet for you to look at too long. 

“You should meet our friend Kuroo!! Ohhhhh or Tsukki! He’s even taller than Kuroo!!! Their 6’ something!”

“Lucky!” You gasp and so, a great friendship began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are my lifeblood and Comments are my fuel!


End file.
